Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor ,
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger ,
An endless, aching need.
I say love it is a flower ,
And you its only seed ,
It's the heart afraid of breaking"
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking"
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won"t be taken ,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul afraid of dying"
That never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely ,
And the road has been too long ,
And you think that love is only ,
For the lucky and the strong ,
Just remember in the winter ,
Far beneath the bitter snows ,
Lies the seed that with the sun"s love,
In the spring becomes the rose.